Chapter X: Letter to Her Missionary “brothers”

FOOTNOTES:

[44] _Imit._, III, xxiv, 2.

[45] Is., lxv, 15.

[46] Apoc., ii, 17.

[47] _Cf._ I Cor., iv, 5.

[48] _Cf._ Rom., viii, 15.

[49] II Esdras, iv, 17.

[50] Ephes., vi, 17.

MORTIFICATION

Far from being like to those great souls who from their childhood practise all sorts of macerations, I made my mortification consist solely in the breaking of my will, restraining a hasty word, rendering little services to those around me without making anything of it, and a thousand other things of this kind.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. VI

As I had no taste for games, I should have liked to spend my life reading, but I was only to take a very limited time for this chosen recreation, and this was the ground of many a sacrifice, for I made it a point of duty to break off promptly at the end of the time allotted, even in the middle of the most interesting passage.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. IV

I had accustomed myself never to complain when anything of mine was taken away; and when unjustly blamed I chose rather to remain silent than to defend myself.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. I

I was ten years old the day that my Father told Céline he was going to let her have lessons in painting; I was by, and envied her. Then Papa said to me: “And you, my little queen, would it give you pleasure too to learn drawing?” I was just going to respond with a very gladsome _yes_, when Marie made the remark that I had not the same taste for it as Céline. At once she gained the day; and I, thinking that here was a good opportunity of offering a grand sacrifice to Jesus, said not a word. So eager was my desire to learn drawing that now I still wonder how I had the fortitude to remain silent.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. VIII

In the world, on awakening in the morning I used to think over what would probably occur either pleasing or vexatious during the day; and if I foresaw only trying events I arose dispirited. Now it is quite the other way: I think of the difficulties and the sufferings that await me, and I rise the more joyous and full of courage the more I foresee opportunities of proving my love for Jesus, and _earning the living of my children_--seeing that I am _the mother_ of souls. Then I kiss my crucifix and lay it tenderly on the pillow while I dress, and I say to Him: “My Jesus, Thou hast worked enough and wept enough during the three-and-thirty years of Thy life on this poor earth. Take now Thy rest.... My turn it is to suffer and to fight.”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

The attraction to penance was given me, but I was permitted nothing to satisfy it. The only mortifications I was allowed consisted in mortifying self-love, which did me more good than corporal penance.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. VII

At prayer I was for a long time near a Sister who used to handle incessantly either her Rosary-beads or some other thing; perhaps none heard it but myself, for my hearing is extremely acute, but I cannot say how it tormented me! I should have liked to turn my head and look at the culprit so as to make her stop that noise: however in my heart I knew it was better to bear it patiently, for the love of God in the first place, and also to avoid giving pain.

I kept quiet therefore, but was sometimes worked up to fever-heat and obliged to make simply a prayer of endurance. Finally I sought out the means of suffering with peace and joy, at least in my innermost soul; I tried to like the teasing little noise. Instead of endeavouring not to hear it--a thing impossible--I listened with fixed attention as if it had been a delightful concert; and my prayer, _which was not the prayer of quiet_, passed in offering this concert to Jesus.

Another time I was in the laundry opposite a Sister who while washing handkerchiefs splashed me every minute with dirty water. My first impulse was to draw back and wipe my face, so as to show her who besprinkled me in that fashion, that she would oblige me by working more quietly; but I reflected immediately that it was very foolish to refuse treasures so generously offered me, and I took good care not to show my annoyance. On the contrary, I made such successful efforts to _wish_ for a plentiful splashing of dirty water, that at the end of half an hour I had really acquired a taste for this new sort of aspersion, and I determined to come again as often as possible to a place where happily such riches could be had gratuitously.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. X

I remember that sometimes, when a postulant, I was so violently tempted to indulge myself by seeking some little consolations, that I was obliged to go quickly past our Mother’s cell, and cling to the banisters of the staircase so that I should not turn back. There would come to mind a number of permissions to ask, a hundred pretexts for deciding in favour of my natural inclinations and gratifying them. How glad I am now of having denied myself from the outset of my life in religion! Already I enjoy the reward promised to those who fight courageously. No longer do I feel the necessity of refusing myself consolations of the heart; for my heart is firmly fixed in God.... Because it has loved Him above all, it has gradually enlarged, even so as to love those who are dear to it with a love incomparably deeper than if it were centred in a selfish and fruitless affection.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. X

In everything I must find self-denial and sacrifice; thus I feel that a letter will not bear fruit unless I write it with a certain reluctance, and solely through obedience. When conversing with a novice I am careful to mortify myself and to avoid asking her questions which would gratify my curiosity. If she commence to speak of something interesting, then, leaving it unfinished, pass to a subject wearisome to me, I take care not to remind her of the interruption, for it seems to me that one can do no good by self-seeking.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. X

God did not permit that our Mother should tell me to write down my poems according as I composed them, and I would not have liked to ask her, fearing lest that might be a fault against poverty. So I used to wait until the hour of free time, and it was not without extreme difficulty that I recalled to mind, at eight o’clock in the evening, what I had composed in the morning.

These little nothings are a martyrdom it is true, but we must be well on our guard not to lessen it by allowing ourselves, or seeking to be allowed, a thousand things which would render the religious life pleasant and comfortable.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

When some one rings for us, or knocks at our door, we must mortify ourselves so as not even to do one stitch more before answering. I have practised that; and it is, I assure you, a source of peace.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

Do you know my Sundays and festivals? They are the days when the good God tries me the most.

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

Sœur Thérèse de l’Enfant Jésus says that she has not done any great penances: that is because her fervour counted as nothing those which were allowed her. It nevertheless happened that she became ill from wearing for too long a time a small iron cross, of which the sharp points were sunk into her flesh.

“That would not have befallen me from so slight a penance,” she said afterwards, “if the good God had not wanted to make me understand that the macerations of the Saints are not intended for me, nor for the little souls who will tread the same path of spiritual childhood.”

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. XII

To a novice whom she saw practise a little act of self-denial she said:

“You will be very glad to find that before you at the moment of death. What you have just done is more glorious than if, by some skilful measures, you had gained for the religious communities the good-will of the Government, and that all France applauded you as a Judith.”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

To another who was bewailing her want of courage:

“You complain of what should cause you the greatest happiness. Where would be your merit if you must fight only when you felt the courage? What matters it if you have none, provided that you act as if you had! If you feel too slothful to pick up a bit of thread, and that nevertheless you do it for the love of Jesus, you have more merit than if in a moment of fervour you were to accomplish something of far greater importance. So instead of being sorrowful, rejoice to see that in letting you feel your weakness the good Master provides you with an opportunity of gaining for Him a greater number of souls.”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

Being questioned as to her mode of sanctifying the repasts, Thérèse made answer:

“In the refectory we have but one only thing to do: to accomplish this so lowly act with thoughts uplifted. I declare to you that often it is in the refectory the sweetest aspirations of love come to me. Sometimes I am impelled to dwell on the thought that if our Divine Lord were in my place, with the fare set before Him as served to me, He would certainly partake of it.... It is very probable that during His life on earth He tasted of the like food: _He ate bread, fruits, etc._...

“Here are my simple little rubrics:

“I picture myself at Nazareth in the house of Holy Family. If I am served with, for instance, salad, cold fish, wine or anything of strong flavour, I offer it to St. Joseph. To the Blessed Virgin I give the hot portions, well-ripened fruits, etc.; and the feast-day fare, particularly corn-flour, rice, preserves, these I offer to the Child Jesus. Lastly, when a bad dinner is brought me I say gaily to myself: ‘Today, my dear little child, all that is for you.’”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

One fast-day when the Mother Prioress had ordered some special little thing by way of alleviation for Sœur Thérèse, a Sister relates that she surprised her in the act of seasoning this too palatable fare with wormwood.

Another time she saw her slowly drinking some particularly disagreeable physic, and exclaimed: “But be quick, drink that off at one draught!” “Oh no!” was the reply, “must I not take advantage of the trifling opportunities I meet with, to mortify myself a little, since it is forbidden me to look for greater?”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

An extremely interesting letter had been read one day at the recreation in the absence of Thérèse who later showed a desire to read it. Some time afterwards when returning the letter, she was begged to say what she thought regarding something which should especially have delighted her. She appeared embarrassed and then replied:

“The good God has asked of me this sacrifice because of the eagerness that I manifested the other day; I have not read it....”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

She told the novices: “At recreation more than elsewhere will you find occasions for the exercise of virtue. If you would reap great benefit, never go to it with any thought of your own recreation, but thinking of the recreation of others; practise therein total detachment from yourself. If, for instance, you are relating to one of the Sisters a story which seems to you interesting, and that she interrupts it to tell you something else, even though this may not at all interest you, listen to her as if it did, and do not try to return to your first subject. By so acting, you will go from the recreation room with great interior peace, and endued with fresh vigour in the practice of virtue, all because you have not sought to gratify yourself but to give pleasure to others. If one only knew what is gained by renouncing self in all things!...”

“You know it well; you have always acted thus?”

“Yes, I have forgotten self, I have tried not to seek myself in anything.”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

OBEDIENCE

As I had self-love as well as the love of what is right it was sufficient but once to tell me: “Such a thing should not be done,” and I would have no desire to do it again.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. I

From what anxieties do we not free ourselves by making the vow of obedience! How happy are single-minded religious. Their sole guide being the will of Superiors, they are ever secure of going the right way without fear of error, should it even appear to them certain that the Superiors are mistaken. But when one ceases to consult the sure compass, the soul forthwith loses her way in arid paths where the waters of grace soon fail her.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. IX

During her illness the Infirmarian had recommended Sœur Thérèse to take a little walk in the garden every day for a quarter of an hour. For her, this advice was a command. One afternoon, a Sister seeing her walk with much difficulty said to her: “You would do far better to rest; in such circumstances walking can do you no good, you exhaust yourself, that is all.”

“It is true,” replied this child of Obedience, “but do you know what gives me strength?... Well! _I walk for a Missionary._ I think how some one of them far away, yonder, is perhaps exhausted in his apostolic journeyings, and to lessen his fatigue I offer mine to the good God.”

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. XII

POVERTY

After I was clothed with the holy Habit abundant lights on religious perfection were granted me, chiefly regarding the vow of poverty. During my postulate I was pleased to have for my use, anything that was nice, and to find at my hand whatever was necessary. Jesus bore with this patiently, for He does not like to disclose all to the soul at once. He ordinarily gives His light little by little.

After Compline one evening I looked in vain for our lantern on the shelves appointed for them; it was the time of great silence, not possible therefore to ask for it back. I rightly supposed that a Sister believing she took her own had carried away ours; but must I spend a whole hour in the dark in consequence of this mistake? And just that evening I had intended doing much work. Without the interior light of grace I should assuredly have bewailed my loss, but with that light, instead of experiencing vexation I was happy in thinking that poverty consists in being deprived not only of things desirable, but of those also that are indispensable. And in the exterior darkness I found my soul illumined with divine light.

I was seized at this time with a genuine love for what was ugliest and least convenient, thus I was delighted when I saw the pretty little jug carried off from our cell, and received in its stead a large one, all chipped.

HIST. D’UNE AME, CH. VII

A novice expressed regret for having lent a pin which was very serviceable to her:

“Oh! how rich you are,” replied Thérèse, “you cannot be happy.”

COUNSELS AND REMINISCENCES

“_Make haste and come down: for this day I must abide in thy house._”[51] Jesus tells us to come down; where, then, must we go?... At an earlier time the Jews asked Him: “_Master, where dwellest Thou?_”[52] And He said: “_The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head._”[53] Behold whereunto we must descend if we would serve as dwellings for Jesus: we must be so poor that we have not where to lay our head.

XIII LETTER TO HER SISTER CÉLINE

FOOTNOTES:

[51] Luke, xix, 5.

[52] John, i, 38.

[53] Luke, ix, 58.

CONFIDENCE

What offends Jesus, what wounds Him to the Heart, is want of confidence.